


Reassessments

by taichara



Category: Yoroiden Samurai Troopers | Ronin Warriors
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-13
Updated: 2018-02-13
Packaged: 2019-03-17 19:23:16
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 895
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13665669
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/taichara/pseuds/taichara
Summary: After encounters with a new adversary go awry, Shin needs to pull himself back into fighting trim.It's a frustrating and snarky process, apparently.





	Reassessments

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Eliyes](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Eliyes/gifts).



> For Eliyes, holidays 2017.

"This is getting ridiculous, you know that, right?"

The touch of exasperation in Shin's voice was not mirrored in his eyes, so Seiji elected to pay it no attention whatsoever. He had better things to concern himself with right that moment ... like Shin's stance, for one. With a devilish little smile, Seiji whisked into motion, tapping the errant be-socked heel with the tip of his bokken; Shin yelped and bit back a curse.

"What was that for --"

"Pull in your foot, your stance is too wide. And don't complain about it because I'm going easy on you. You think any other instructor would be be this nice and understanding about sloppy stances?"

Shin corrected his posture, grumbling good-naturedly, and shifted his grasp on the polished length of wood he held cradled in his hands. Not his usual spear, this time, but a practice model of a nagamaki -- almost more a sword blade on a too-long hilt than any kind of polearm. Before Seiji could comment on his movements Shin grumbled a little more, tossed his head, and launched into a flurry of strikes -- not very formal, definitely nothing resembling proper _forms_ of any kind, but consistent and on point. More or less. Definitely an improvement over his last run two days ago.

"You're looking better; you know that, right? How does it _feel_ , though?"

Bah. Shin lowered his weapon, expression pinched.

"Stiff. I mean sure, compared to right after -- you know -- right after everything, I feel great, but I'm still stiff and it's annoying as hell and it's going to be more than just 'annoying' if I don't pull myself together before something _else_ comes knocking at our damn collective door --"

With every word that escaped Shin's clenching jaws, a shimmer of blue pale as the sea danced fitfully across his skin. Seiji snorted and fetched him another warning tap with his bokken.

"Rein it in, _Mire_ , before you do something stupid. You need all that for the _real_ fight -- and, yeah, if another round of trouble comes knocking, you're not going to do us or yourself any favours if you burn yourself out stupidly after clawing your way back to begin with."

Sharp words; sharp, and delivered with a laser-like intensity that struck home as precisely as any lightning strike. With a sigh Shin flopped slowly down onto the tatami, fast enough to make his hems flare around him in a rustling of the hakama's heavy cotton. Seiji, alarmed, darted forward a step; Shin waved him off but not before resting his forehead against the smooth shaft of the nagamaki still clutched in his hands.

"I'm fine. I'm fine. Don't go getting all mother-hen on me, it's bad enough when Ryo does it, like he can talk anyway. I'm just ..."

Another sigh, then Shin tipped his head back to meet Seiji's questioning gaze, a faint, crooked smile threatening to make itself seen. He couldn't help it.

"... It's frustrating, is what it is. After everything we went through, and everything that bastard Arago threw at us, getting sidelined by something as stupid as this? Some kid's story about a historical boogeyman. Never mind frustrating, it's _embarrassing_."

"Don't let Touma hear you calling the Devil King Nobunaga a 'kid's story', he'll have an apoplectic fit. Mark my words, he will."

Shin could not roll his eyes hard enough at _that_.

"Apoplectic fit my bony ass. He's probably _enjoying_ this."

"Of course he is."

Smirking -- or close enough to it, at least -- Seiji offered a hand that Shin was more than happy to accept; the floor was not exactly comfortable, tatami notwithstanding, and the view wasn't that great either. With a heave and a grunt of effort he hauled himself to his feet, cracked his neck, shook out his hems and fixed a measuring look onto his erstwhile 'sensei'.

"Keeping on, or no? I think I've still got some life in me."

"I think a break for now won't kill us, actually; and you might be recovering from the Devil's Shot but I'm the one chasing you _and_ Ryo around trying to get us back up to speed before we get an army dropped on our heads.

"... Or just Akechi, instead. That's always a possibility."

Shin was already moaning noooooooo -- only half mockingly -- before Seiji managed to finish his sentence, because oh hell, nope, no thank you sir, that he did not need. Or want. Ever. One encounter with that pale-eyed apparition was more than enough and just the _thought_ of crossing paths with Akechi again was just -- bleeergh. Shin slashed empty air with the nagamaki, lip wrinkling in disgust.

"Hell no, _hell_ no, give me a whole army of clams or grunts or crazed yurei with guns -- again! -- before that creepy bloodless bastard. Once was enough damnit!"

"You just don't want to get set on fire."

"Who _wants_ to get set on fire except for Ryo?!"

Stalking -- stiffly -- to the weapons-rack at the far end of the room, Shin hung his practice blade and, crossing his arms as he turned back, stared challengingly at Seiji until, with a bark of laughter, the other followed suit and returned his bokken to its resting place. Then, and only then, Shin finally managed a thin smile.

"Come on. I need a shower and then food before I do keel over.

"There's always tonight to try and make _real_ plans."


End file.
